If MiddleEarth Entered the 21st Century
by Vilinye
Summary: While the Lord of the Rings may be a timeless tale, some people may find it too archaic for their tastes. A series of drabbles about what a 'modern' Middle-Earth might look like.
1. The 21st Century

If Middle-Earth Entered the 21st Century…

Arassuil II, grandson of Aragorn Telcontar, fixed his gaze on Halmir and Gilloth. "Remember, don't lose your temper, no matter how this woman tries your patience."

Halmir fingered his sword hilt. "Rather would I ride to battle like my forefather Éomer than sit and listen to insults of our land and ancestors, but I will attempt to restrain myself."

"Kathy Green, Representive of the United Nations, to see King Arassuil II of Gondor, Halmir King of Rohan, and Gilloth of the remnant of the Eldar."

"Enter," Arassuil called.

Katy's black suit jacket and knee-length skirt surprised the three. "I'm sorry it took so long, but I had to advertise on for someone with knowledge of the Angethras and the Common Speech." She babbled on, "It's rather pretentious to call it the Common Speech, isn't it? And I always thought English was too wide-spread."

"Ahem," Halmir cleared his throat. "Can we see the recommendations?"

"Of course," Katy handed the paper to Gilloth. His eyebrows disappeared under his hairline in shock. "Replace the terms 'Moriquendi' and 'Calaquendi' with 'Remnant' and 'Emigrant?' That's denying the essential difference between the Umanyar and the Eldar!"

Halmir peeped over the Elf's shoulder; his expression vaulted between horror and humor. "Attempt to assimilate the Wild Men to the Roherric lifestyle. Encourage intermarriage where practical?"

Arassuil stood up. "Give it to me."

Gilloth quickly relinquished the paper, eying it like a venomous spider.

"Increase warg numbers by a conservation program? Attempt to lower rates of drinking, smoking, and overeating among the Shirefolk? Have you ever met the Halflings, Katy?"

"Since you mentioned that, I think 'Halflings' is a belittling term…"

Arassuil ignored her. "And this? Suggesting Halmir and I surrender our thrones and hold…what's this mean…'democratic elections?'"

"Hereditary monarchy is so outdated," Katy smiled. "As is the use of horsemen in battle."

Arassuil saw Halmir's eyes flash. _Elbereth, antëa nin saile.__1_ "Even though the Dark Lord Sauron was destroyed, the Southrons and Eastlings are still a threat…"

"Racism, my Lord Arassuil, is not to be tolerated in any age."

Arassuil clenched his teeth and continued reading. _Require carbon emissions payments from industrialized regions…pay the Ringbearer's heirs for pain and suffering. Encourage reconciliation between Dwarves and Elves—even the Valar have struggled with that one!_

"I also have some personal suggestions. Since the release of the Lord of the Rings film trilogy, Legolas has developed quite a following in my world. Perhaps you could contact the Mirkwood elves about developing a line of Legolas Greenleaf hair products. The eagles of Man-way could transport the products."

"_I Manwon soroni colé findessën engwe!_ Gilloth screamed. "_Uairë nér!"__2_

"Is that Elvish?" Katy asked. "It sounds so…flowing."

"It's Quenya, one of several elven dialects. Sindarin is more commonly used, but Quenya goes back to the days of the first elves…" Arassuil trailed off, less Katy ask for a translation.

"Ah. And I've heard of a pale-en-tear thing…Apple® would pay a fortune to learn its secrets. I can imagine it now…introducing…the iBall®!"

Gilloth leaned over. "_Pólanye níra se lalyé?"__3_

"You are interested in the palantiri?" Arassuil smiled. "Would you like to see the Anor-stone? I'm sure you have the strength of will necessary to pull it to a task besides seeing Denethor's burning hands."

Katy stepped back, her face pale as simbelmynë. "Er…I must be going. Urgent business in Palestine, you understand. If you need anything give me a Tweet on my Blackberry." She quickly backed out of the hall.

Gilloth smiled. "Does she claim to understand the birds as some of my folk do?"

"Well, her suggestion regarding the Eagles…" Arassuil muttered. "So, do we still wish to join their 'modern world?'"

The three exchanged glances.

"No!" They said in unison.

"I am content in the Fourth Age. " Halmir added. "This 21st century is far too confusing for me."

Author's Notes:

All Quenyan dialogue is original and adapted from Ardalambion's Quenya course. Any mistakes are mine.

1 _Elbereth, give me wisdom_

2 The Eagles of Manwe carrying hair products (literally 'things for hair')! Unholy woman!"

3 _Can you force her to leave?_


	2. Sword Control

*Beacon-fire transcript courtesy of Endor Department of Weapons-Control

Good afternoon, this is Endor Department of Weapons, Rohan branch. How may I help you?  
I am Eomer son of Eomund. I need a sword.  
First of all, you have to answer a few questions. Are you over 21 years of age?  
Yes.  
Have you been convicted of any misdemeanors or felonies?  
Grima Wormtongue charged me with treason, but…  
Then you are not eligible for a weapon.  
But it was Grima…a false charge…  
I'm sorry, sir. Next?

I am Theoden King of Rohan. I need my sword back.  
If you wish to renew your license, you'll need to take weapons training and undergo a background check.  
What?  
There is also a 24-hour waiting period.  
I ride to war today!  
War is not the answer, Theoden King.  
Excuse me, have you ever met an orc?  
No. Next caller?

I am Haleth son of Hamir. I need a sword for the battle of Helm's Deep.  
Are you 21?  
No, I have seen ten winters.  
No weapons are granted to children.  
But I'll die!  
If you wish to hunt, you may share a gun with your father.  
Hunt? We need to kill orcs!  
What is it about orcs? You must learn to settle disagreements peacefully. Next.

I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn.  
I suppose you want a sword as well.  
No, I already have one.  
What model, sir?  
It's Anduril, Narsil reforged.  
Elven blades are classified as prohibited weapons under ordnance Parma-367.  
Excuse me?  
However, you can apply for a cancelled dagger permit, but it would only be lawful in your own residence. You'd need a different permit for carrying it on horseback.  
I am Isildur's heir.  
You also should undergo physiological testing before receiving any weapons. Next.

I am Gandalf the White.  
There is no Gandalf the White in our records.  
I was Gandalf Greyhame, but no longer.  
Do you have a permit for your weapons?  
I didn't pass through fire and death to quibble with a witless worm about carrying weapons.  
If you are dissatisfied, we have complaint forms available.  
Tens of thousands of orcs are converging upon Helm's Deep even as we speak! We must have our weapons for the battle.  
So, these orcs have weapons, then?  
No, they carry overripe po-ta-toes… of course, they have weapons!  
Wait a minute, let me check my records…ah, here it is, Please permit passage of 10,000 armed uruk-hai to Helm's Deep. Signed, Saruman the White.


	3. Here she comesMiss MiddleEarth

If Middle-Earth had Beauty Pageants…*

*I give no explanation for how the following transcript reached my hands.

Contestants:

Arwen Undomiel

Galadriel

Eówyn daughter of Eómund

Rosie Cotton

Goldberry

Judges:

Gimli son of Gloin

Éomer son of Eómund

Grima

Samwise Gamgee

Smeagol

Personal Interview excerpts:

How would you resolve the crisis that is going on in Mordor?

Arwen: The heir of Isildur must return and lead men against the threat.

Galadriel: I have struggled much with the Dark Lord, but I shall not allow him to prevail.

Eówyn: I would ride out to battle against the foes of men.

Rosie Cotton: What crisis? I thought Mordor was just a legend.

Goldberry: No one has ever caught Tom, for Tom is master.

Do you have friends of other races?

Arwen: I am actually engaged to a mortal Man.

Galadriel: I am wary of mortals, but there are a few worthy of trust.

Eówyn: The Holbyta are so cute!

Rosie Cotton: I have not met many Big Folk.

Goldberry: I have not yet determined which my husband is…can I get back to you on that?

Who is your role model?

Arwen: Some have said I am a likeness of my foremother Lúthien, and perhaps my fate will not be unlike hers.

Galadriel: I have seen many of my family members fall in battle, and have learned from their errors.

Eówyn: I wish to ride to war like Éomer, or like Theóden King.

Rosie Cotton: My mother.

Goldberry: I admire my husband's merry ways.

Summery of Talent Competition*:

*unfortunately, all recordings were lost

Arwen displayed her embroidered banner, embellished with mithril and gems.

Galadriel offered to let the judges look in her mirror; unfortunately, Grima fainted and had to be revived with miruvir. Pippin refused.

Eówyn showed a display of battle tactics.

Rosie Cotton danced for the judges. A call for audience participation sent Samwise running forward.

Goldberry also danced.

Lifestyle and Fitness in Swimsuit Armor

Arwen came onstage wearing a cloak and riding Glorfindel's horse.

Galadriel refused, pointing instead to the defense of Lothlorien.

Eówyn, on the other hand, donned a helm and the whole regale.

Rosie Cotton and Goldberry spent so long trying to find armor that the judges just gave them half-credit and went home.

Evening Wear*

*pictures available courtesy of _Middle-Earth Herald_

Arwen

Galadriel

Eówyn

Rosie Cotton

Goldberry

Onstage Question:

Grima drew a card and read it. "What would you like to tell our judges?"

Arwen blinked at them. "Could one of you carry a message to Aragorn for me?"

"Are you offering a bribe?' Grima asked, a gleam in his eyes. Éomer restrained Grima and motioned for Galadriel to speak.

"You cannot afford to remain divided against the Dark Lord," Galadriel declared, and followed her granddaughter offstage.

Eówyn stared at her brother. "Why must I tend the house when you ride off to fight?"

"Err...later, everyone's watching." Éomer shrugged.

"I'll take care of you, dear" Grima hissed.

Eówyn went pale and excited quickly, but Éomer lunged at Grima.

Rosie Cotton danced up and smiled at Samwise. "You're an excellent dancer...we should dance together more often."

Samwise blushed and offered a hand to help Rosie down as Goldberry entered.

"If any of you are ever traveling through the Old Forest, call us. Ho, come Tom Bombadilo!"

The judges circled up their chairs, with Gimli between Éomer and Grima, while Sam and Smeagol completed the circle. "So, who do you vote for?" Sam asked, staring dreamily out the door that Rosie excited.

"Fisshes, precious, fisheses!" Smeagol hissed.

"I believe Galadriel is the fairest lady of all," Gimli stated.

"The elf-witch?" Éomer asked.

Gimli grabbed his axe and held it at Éomer's neck. "Do not insult that which you have not seen."

"I actually believe Arwen, the Evening Star, is far more beautiful," Éomer corrected.

"Well," Gimli lowered his axe. "Then you are forgiven."

Grima spoke up. "Actually, I think that Eówyn is fairest."

"Get away from my sister!" Éomer demanded. "Worm!"

"Worms are nice and cool, and they catch nice fishes!" Smeagol skipped about the others.

"Just don't eat them raw," Sam winced.

"Raw and wiggling!" Smeagol chortled. "Raw and wiggling!"

"I'll give you worms!" Grima drew his blade.

"Fish!"

(_...Here the paper is torn, with only occasional words legible. It is my belief that the judges began fighting, and broke the crown intended for the pageant winner. As Haldir of Lothlorien has said, "__The world is indeed full of peril...but still there is much that is fair." And never have the peril and the fair come so near as at the Middle-Earth Beauty Pageant.)  
_


End file.
